


one step at a time, we'll learn to let go

by Carifusaga



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Minho/Newt, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Moving On, Post-The Death Cure, listen. i just think they should have been able to grieve together alright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carifusaga/pseuds/Carifusaga
Summary: Minho had recognized the necklace when he first found it in Thomas’ pocket; it was the same necklace he had given to Newt when they first started seeing each other.So seeing it with Thomas was jarring. Minho knew what was inside the compartment, had known that it was strictly for Thomas’ eyes, and all Minho could do was respect what must have been some of Newt’s last moments of clarity when he parted with the necklace.Watching Thomas cry over whatever words must have been written, Minho dropped his head and smiled sadly. “You loved him,” Minho finally spoke, his voice soft and quiet, “didn’t you?”
Relationships: Minho/Newt (Maze Runner), Minho/Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner), Minho/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 64





	one step at a time, we'll learn to let go

**Author's Note:**

> listen. i just want Minho and Thomas to Talk^tm after the aftermath of everything. that's all. i think they both deserve closure on the situation

Months had passed since that fateful night in the last city. 

There were still a lot of people and kids adjusting to this new home they all called Paradise and trying to live off the land. It had come natural to Minho, and to the other experienced gladers; this is what they knew, what they grew up doing, in a sense, since getting sent up in that box. 

But one thing Minho couldn’t adjust to was Newt’s absence. He had spent three years with Newt as a companion, two of those years where they had been something so much more than just friends. After years of waking up every morning with Newt nestled comfortably in his arms and feeling his warm, smaller body pressed so comfortably against his, Minho hated how cold he was in the mornings. No matter how much he told himself that Newt was gone - he had seen how quickly the infection was taking Newt over - his heart refused to let go. 

It was one of those mornings, where Minho tried to delay waking up as much as possible, not wanting to face the empty feeling that would consume his chest as soon as he opened his eyes. He had been a Runner though. It was ingrained in Minho to rise with the sun and be on his feet and ready to run as soon as the sun was breaking over the horizon. He cracked his eyes open, seeing the light of dawn just start to shine through the windows. 

Minho turned in his hammock, seeing if the people around him were starting to wake up too. Frypan continued to snore softly, and he could see Gally and a few other boys sleeping soundly in their hammocks. Minho sighed and decided to get up. 

There was no chance for him going back to sleep, and maybe a quick run along the shoreline would ease the ache in his heart.

He passed the huge slab of stone, covered with the etching of names, and pointedly refused to look at the knife resting on top of the rock. He hadn’t written Newt’s name into the stone yet, couldn’t. Even after being here in their own created paradise and having the time to think and heal, Minho wasn’t done mourning over the loss of his partner. He wasn’t sure if he ever would be. 

He was at least happy that Thomas hadn’t taken initiative and carved Newt’s name into the stone for Minho. 

His mind switching to Thomas, Minho figured he could invite him for a morning run. Looking back at their short time in the Maze together, and how weird was it to think the Maze was a simpler time, Minho knew that Thomas had enjoyed being a runner, feeling the strain and adrenaline flood through his body as they sprinted past the vines clinging to the walls and cutting past corners. Minho never saw Thomas smile much, but the times when they’d stop for a quick break and Minho would check on him…

Thomas’ smile had always been beautiful and blinding. 

Minho had spent close to an hour searching for Thomas, looking through every hut to see if he was still sleeping, but when he couldn’t find him Minho was at a loss. There weren’t many places to go yet, despite how much the survivors had expanded and grown their new home in the past months, but if Thomas was specifically trying not to be found then Minho had an idea as to where he might be. 

A couple weeks after W.C.K.D’s downfall, Thomas had dragged Minho a few miles away from their new home, trekking through the trees until they came to a small area of cleared forest floor. It had reminded Minho a lot of the Runner’s hut back in the glade; nestled and hidden between the trees, and more importantly could only be found by someone who knew what to look for. 

They spent a good amount of time constructing it, making the hut something that was undeniably theirs, a place they could fall back on and escape to when they just needed a place to be alone. Deal with the hurt and the trauma of everything without prying eyes. 

When Minho closed in on their structure, he could already hear Thomas’ quiet sniffling. He stepped quietly, being careful not to make a sound as he edged toward the entrance. He stopped at the sight before him, letting out a sad sigh as he watched Thomas clutch scraps of paper to his chest. 

Minho had recognized the necklace when he first found it in Thomas’ pocket; it was the same necklace he had given to Newt when they first started seeing each other. Minho had made it for him, taking extra care with whittling the cylinder attached to the leather straps. It had taken Minho several tries to get it right, making sure the compartment was sturdy enough to not break or fall apart under any kind of pressure. They passed letters to each other like that for months. 

After Newt’s accident, he had written Minho a long letter that expressed so much. His thanks, his gratitude, and the unwavering love he felt for Minho. When Newt pressed the necklace into Minho’s hand and sent him off into the Maze with a quick kiss pressed to the corner of his mouth, Minho wrapped the leather securely around his wrist, letting its presence be a constant reminder to always make it back before the Maze closed, to always find his way back to Newt. 

So seeing it with Thomas was jarring. Minho knew what was inside the compartment, had known that it was strictly for Thomas’ eyes, and all Minho could do was respect what must have been some of Newt’s last moments of clarity when he parted with the necklace. 

Watching Thomas cry over whatever words must have been written, Minho dropped his head and smiled sadly. “You loved him,” Minho finally spoke, his voice soft and quiet, “didn’t you?”

Thomas jumped at his voice, twisting around to face Minho. His hand clutching the letter jerked, like Thomas desperately wanted to hide the letter from Minho’s sight. Minho raised his hands in a passive gesture. “Calm down, shank. I’m not going to pry.”

He could see Thomas gulp, his eyes shifting between the letter and Minho. After a few moments of hesitation, Thomas carefully folded the letter and slipped it inside his pocket, then fiddled with his hands. He was unable to meet Minho’s eyes, and that was as much a confession of guilt as far as he could tell. 

Before Minho could say anything else, Thomas sighed and hid his face against his palms. “Minho, I am so sorry,” Thomas whispered. His voice was muffled against his hands, heavy with emotion. 

He swallowed back his own surge of emotions. When he felt confident enough to speak without his voice wavering, Minho shrugged off the apology. “I was gone for six months. I’m not really surprised that you and Newt would have gotten closer.” Minho wet his lips, and looked down. “He loved you, too, Thomas.”

“Minho, nothing happened between us.” Thomas stood and crossed half the distance to Minho. He could see the desperation in Thomas’ amber eyes, pleading for Minho to believe him. “Yeah, I- we- fuck, Minho. Newt loved you, the entire time you were his priority, our priority. The other immunes that we found and brought here, they’re only here because they got lucky. The whole time, we were searching for you. Minho, we would have completely forgotten about the rest of the kids and W.C.K.D if we had found you sooner.

“Vince kept telling us to let it go, to let you go, and we couldn’t! Newt and I fought him at every turn, we would have burnt down several more cities if it meant getting you back.” Thomas took a breath, ran his hand over his neck nervously. “Newt told me what happened. Back in the glade when you saved him. He refused to give up on you, Minho, and we… I swear, whatever we felt for each other, nothing happened. We would have never gone behind your back like that.”

Minho wanted to laugh, he really did. It was just so sad and ironic, and completely unfair. 

Because he and Newt had talked about it, extensively, when Thomas first showed up to the glade. He was stupid and wreckless, but naturally charismatic, and they had been so unexplainably drawn to him. Minho had known when him and Ben had first passed Thomas on his very first day, and he had known when he saw Newt sitting so close to Thomas during the bonfire. 

They had talked to each other about it, had continued talking and discussing it even after they left the maze and were traveling through the scorch. There was something about Thomas that they had quickly grown to fall in love with, and they had agreed to pursue him, together, once things had calmed down. 

“The necklace,” Minho started explaining, “that his letter to you was in. I had made that for him. It was so we could write letters to each other, know when and where to meet after all the other guys in the glade went to bed, because we didn’t want anyone to know about us yet. Cause, really,” Minho couldn’t help the soft chuckle, “what would a glade full of shanks think about two guys being together. Even after we told everyone, that necklace was still something special to us. It was symbolic. Of us, our relationship, how much we loved each other.” 

“Minho…”

He smiled at Thomas. Just a sad, slight tilt of the corner of his mouth. “It says a lot to me what Newt was thinking and what he was wanting to express, that he gave our necklace to you with his final words inside of it.” 

Thomas pulled the letter out of his pocket, the necklace grasped in his alongside it. He outstretched his hand and fixed Minho with a look, telling him to take the items from him. When Minho shook his head, Thomas started pleading. “Minho, please. You and Newt were together. His final words shouldn’t have been for me, okay, that’s not fair to you. You… you didn’t get to say goodbye, I took that chance from you both when I told you to go find Brenda.”

He couldn’t really argue with that. Thomas had taken away their chance to say one last goodbye, and one last I love you. Minho still doesn’t even know what exactly happened that led to that knife being lodged in Newt’s chest, and it took everything in him not to blame Thomas for it. 

Because so much had been happening at that time, and also because Minho loved Thomas, too.

Minho let out a breath, and strode forward to Thomas. He covered Thomas’ hands with his own and explained, “The moment we left the glade and escaped the Maze, Newt and I knew that every day was going to be another risk thrown at us. There was never any guarantee that we were both going to survive. Especially after Winston died, we made sure to let the other know that if today was it, if one of us was going to die, we loved each other.” Minho sucked in a breath, his throat tight and eyes burning with unshed tears. “Newt and I had plenty of goodbyes, Thomas. We’ve said our final words to each other night after night since getting out of the glade. These-” he tightened his hold on Thomas’ hand, watched sadly as he shed more tears. “-these words are for you, and you alone. They were important to Newt, and they should be important to you, too.”

He pulled Thomas into a tight hug, because there really wasn’t much else to do. They were both still mourning over the loss of someone they both loved deeply. 

“Newt loved you, Thomas.” Minho pulled back and gave Thomas a watery smile. “We both loved you, and I’m just sorry you never got your chance with him.” He pressed his lips against Thomas’ forehead and let his kiss linger. When he pulled back, Thomas was staring at him with wide eyes. “When we’re both ready, let’s put his name onto the stone together, okay?” 

All he could do was leave after that; leave Thomas to his thoughts and to Newt’s final words. They still had a ways to go, a long path of healing and forgiving that would be difficult on them both.

But Minho would wait for Thomas at the end of this path of theirs, and together they would move forward.


End file.
